The Good Mistake (Hemsworth Brothers #3)

by Haleigh Lovell

  “What?”

  “Ya know,” she said as if stating the obvious. “Blow. Snow. Powder. Stash. You can call it whatever you choose to call it.”

  “Not that,” I dismissed. “What about his mustache?”

  “Haven’t you watched Narcos? It’s a show about cocaine but it’s also about mustaches.”

  It took me a second, then it came to me sharp and clear. “Wait, you think our waiter’s Pablo Escobar?”

  “I don’t think,” she intoned. “I know.”

  The corners of my mouth lifted into a half-smile and it seemed I was incapable of a reply. I had no words. None.

  As my gaze shifted, I noticed that the elderly woman seated next to Lucy was watching our exchange with curious eyes. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a severe bun and she appeared to be about seventy, I observed.

  Finally, she tapped Lucy on the shoulder. “Excuse me, my dear.”

  “Yes?” Lucy smiled amiably. “Can I help you?”

  “I’ve always wondered...” she hedged.

  “Go on.” Lucy prompted. “Don’t be shy, now. You can ask me anything. Anything at all.”

  “I don’t want to be a bother.”

  “Absolutely no bother at all,” Lucy said graciously.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive.”

  Taking a slow breath, the woman clutched her pearl necklace, then, “When you cut lines, do you use a razor blade, a credit card, or, say, your driver’s license?”

  “A razor blade.” Lucy indulged her. “Always a razor blade.”

  “Why a razor blade?”

  Lucy gave a short shrug. “I guess it’s just easier in my opinion. Blow tends to snap and fly all over the place with a credit card. And with a razor you can actually chop up the small rocks while you lay out a line.”

  “I see... that makes sense.” The lady gave a tentative nod. “I’m Barbara, by the way.”

  “Are you the Barbara?” Lucy said in a hushed awe.

  “Yes, I’m Barbara.”

  “Wow. Wowwww. This is grand,” she marveled. “I’ve always wanted to meet you in the flesh.”

  “Err... okay.” Barbara sounded perplexed.

  “I’m Lucy,” she said, beaming at her newfound friend. “What else would you like to know, Barbara?”

  “When you’re doing a line of coke, do you always huddle around a table with a top made of glass?”

  “Actually—” Lucy wrinkled her nose and sniffed manically like she was some sort of cokehead—“I prefer to use a mirror.”

  “Why a mirror?” Barbara inquired in a sonorous voice. “As opposed to say... an oak table?”

  “With a mirror, there aren’t any cracks or creases so I can see every speck of powder that could’ve gone to waste. Besides, a mirror is way classier than a wood table.”

  “How very fascinating.”

  Under the table, I delivered a swift kick to her shin. “What in the flying fuck are you doing, Lucy?”

  “Just dropping some pearls of wisdom like a cartel lord.”

  I skewered her a look that said, Cut that shit out. Right now.

  “Relax, Edric. I learned so much from watching Narcos.” Then she flicked her gaze to Barbara and said, “Shall we go and get a bag of coke?”

  “Lucy,” I warned.

  “Hah!” She gave a shrill laugh. “Barbara, I was just messin’ with you! Don’t do drugs, okay? In the immortal words of Whitney Houston, ‘Crack is wack!’ Cocaine will damage your liver and your kidneys and cause permanent damage to your blood vessels. Nasty stuff. If you wanna get high, might I suggest you try smoking some pot? It’s a healing herb, you know.”

  “Yes.” Barbara visibly perked up. “I’ve heard that marijuana has medicinal properties. Now tell me, what strains do you recommend?”

  Pursing her lips in deep thought, Lucy tapped a finger against them. “Pineapple Kush is pretty good. It’s the child of parent strains Pineapple and OG Kush and it has this full-bodied flavor with citrusy lemon undertones. But if I had to choose, I’d say Girl Scout Cookies ticks all the boxes for me. It’s a hybrid strain that carries sweet, grapey flavors and it gives me a high that’s both euphoric and relaxing.”

  Why the fuck is she speaking with a note of hauteur in her voice like she’s a wine connoisseur?

  “Is weed like wine?” Barbara asked in a wondrous voice.

  “In a sense it is. Every strain has a history and like wine, weed changes with age.”

  “Wow.” Barbara marveled. “I did not know that.”

  “Weed is revolutionary.” Lucy smiled serenely. “The only gripe I have is pot feels less special now that it’s legal.”

  Barbara tipped her head back and gave a tinkling laugh.

  Color me shocked. Lucy’s jokes were landing.

  Meanwhile, Barbara had plucked her phone from her clutch purse and appeared to be taking notes. “Give me a list of some cannabis strains, my dear. I’m not sure what sort of strains I’ll enjoy, so if you can kindly point me in the right direction, that will be tremendously helpful.”

  “Gurrrl,” Lucy intoned to this lady who was about five decades older. “You just need to experiment and figure that shit out for yourself.”

  “You think I should do that?” she said little uncertainly.

  “I do. I say go visit a dispensary and just go for it. Jah mon! Hit a blunt, I say. Then praise Jah and give thanks. Not only is it an awakening, it is a Jah-wakening, mon! BOMBOCLAT!”

  I was speechless. Now she’s talking like a Rasta?!?

  “Now before you do that, Barb my mon,” she went on in a serious tone. “I’m gonna tell ye some strains ye need to stay away from. Now are ye listening?”

  “I’m listening.” Barbara was looking at her expectantly, fingers poised ready to type.

  I opened my mouth, but I was too stunned to speak. So I just sat there, watching their exchange with suppressed mirth as Lucy began prattling off her list.

  “Alaskan Thunderfuck, Bruce Banner #3, Durban Poison, Death Star, Sour Diesel, and Amnesia Haze. Those strains will fuck you up. Bruce Banner #3 is named after the Hulk’s alter ego, and it might look like regular pot but it’s so powerful that when it gets sparked at parties, someone always ends up yelling, ‘HULK SMASH.’”

  Barbara was scandalized. “Oh, my stars.”

  “Oh, you’ll definitely be seeing stars with all that psychedelic distortion. Stay away from those strains, Barbara. They will send shockwaves throughout your entire system. I’m not kidding around here. Death Star will wreck as much havoc on your system as the Galactic Empire. It will literally ZAP you!”

  “What about Amnesia Haze? That actually sounds quite pleasant.”

  “No, Barbara. No.” Lucy shook her head. “Don’t let the name fool you. One time, I got so stoned from Amnesia Haze that I was trippin’ balls, I tell you! It was so bad that I didn’t want to be high anymore. I just wanted it to stop.”

  “Bu-but,” Barbara stammered. “What if I want to be tripping on... err, balls?”

  At this point I was trying but failing to keep a straight face. “Barbara,” I said kindly. “Sorry to interrupt your conversation, but Lucy could use some fresh air. As you can see, she’s three sheets to the wind, so everything she told you—pinch of salt and all.”

  Slightly flummoxed, Barbara began protesting, “Oh, dear. We’ve only just begun. Must Lucy go?”

  “Yes,” I said regretfully. “I’m afraid she must.”

  Barbara cast Lucy an imploring look and in return, Lucy sent her a look that said, I don’t want to go. Send help, please. Save me from this monster!

  “C’mon, baby,” I said. Chair legs scraped across the teak floors as she reluctantly got to her feet. I slid a hand around her waist to steady her. “We’re going outside.”

  “Edric.” She threw me a hassled look as I led her away from the table. “Why did you do that?”

  I waited until we were out of earshot before asking, “Do what?”

&nb
sp; “You don’t know what I’m talking about?” she hissed, staring at me with blatant contempt.

  “No, Lucy,” I strove for a bored tone. “I don’t know.”

  “You interrupted my in-depth, hard-hitting interview with Barbara fuckin’ Walters. I was just about to get down to the real and raw shit back there. All that nitty-gritty stuff, but then you had to go ahead and ruin everything.”

  I gave a rough bark of laughter. “Sorry to break it to you, but that wasn’t Barbara Walters.”

  “It was! She even sounded like her.”

  “That woman sounded nothing like her. Barbara Walters sounds like she has an entire pack of gum in her mouth when she speaks. Her words are muffled. I can’t stand it.”

  “How dare you?” She sent me a cutting glare. “How dare you speak ill of her? Barbara Walters is a legend. Show some respect, son.”

  “Okay, okay. No need to get feisty with me.” We reached the end of the banquet hall and I held the door open, gestured for her to exit first and then joined her, stepping out into the balmy night.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  I scanned the perimeter until I found them.

  Yep, there they are. Exactly where I expected them to be.

  “We’re headed for that duck pond over there,” I said. “My sisters are never far from a pond with waterfowl.”

  “How come?”

  “Feeding ducks is one of their favorite pastimes.”

  Bizarrely, Lucy began stating what was in front of her like a kid being quizzed by her teacher. “Fairy lights!” she slurred, pointing at the strings of lights draped from tree branch to tree branch, all across the expansive lawn.

  “Those are fairy lights.” I smiled. “Gold star for you, Lucy.”

  “Paper lanterns!” she cried. “A splendiferous spread of paper lanterns.”

  “Correct,” I congratulated her. “A plus for effort and for using a flowery adjective.”

  “Water! Lily pads! Ducks! Quack!” she squawked as we neared the pond. “Molly! McKenzie!”

  “Guyyyyyyssss!” My sisters spotted us right away and immediately brushed right past me, taking turns to fling themselves at Lucy and encase her in fierce hugs.

  What am I? I stood there, scowling. Chopped liver?

  “We’re so glad you came, Lucy.” Molly gave her the once-over and let out a low whistle. “Damn, girl. You look gorgeous. GORJESSSSS.”

  Lucy gave a little twirl and almost dropped into the duck pond. “Dewwwww I?” she shrieked, smoothing down the nonexistent wrinkles on her corset.

  McKenzie’s voice pitched higher. “Yewwww dewwww.”

  Fuck this shit. My head was throbbing and I felt a migraine coming on. “For the love of God,” I lamented. “There’s a sharp ringing noise in my ears now. Do you have to scream at the top of your lungs?”

  “We deewwww,” all three of them shrieked back.

  Fucking kill me and send me to the horrors of hell.

  “Fine. Be that way.” I rubbed my temples. “Clearly, Lucy’s been quite an influence on you.”

  “Why?” Molly egged me on. “Are you jelly?”

  “No,” I said without expression. “I’m not jealous.”

  “Good.” Molly threw me a saccharine smile before chucking a bread roll at Lucy. “Because this is our last roll and we’re giving it to your girlfriend. Not you.”

  “Uh-huh.” McKenzie nodded and announced grandiosely, “Lucy, you have the honor of—”

  In a flash, Lucy shoved the entire roll into her mouth. Her cheeks were looking like a chipmunk preparing for winter. “Thannkhhh thyyou,” she managed, talking with her mouth full. “I’m shtarrrving.”

  An awkward moment of silence ensued. I watched Lucy with a glint of amusement while my sisters stared in mute horror.

  “Whhatttfff?” Lucy looked at me, confusion on her inebriated face. “Whatfff?”

  “Erm...” My mouth began twitching madly at the corners. “I believe that bread roll was meant for the ducks.”

  Lucy choked. A strangled, squeaky noise scraped from her throat. “Eeeek...”

  LATER, WE HEADED BACK to the reception hall and filled our stomachs with food not intended for ducks. Soon after all the plates were cleared, the DJ called all the ladies to the dance floor.

  “Let’s go, Edric!” Lucy shot out of her chair. “It’s time for the bouquet toss.”

  “Okay.” I chuckled. I had no business being there but I allowed myself to be dragged away.

  “Here,” she said, removing her strappy heels and thrusting them at me. “Hold my shoes.”

  The DJ play began playing Formation by Beyoncé and I stood off to the sides, watching Lucy warm up with some aerobic squats and lunges.

  “Pssst,” I hissed from the sidelines. “The hell are you doing?”

  While doing the burpee, she said, “Getting ready. A girl’s gotta be limber to catch that bouquet.” Then she moved on to some hip circle exercises. “This is my moment, Edric. Just you wait and see.”

  “What moment?”

  “My Pippa Middleton moment! The moment her satin-clad derriere stole the show at the Royal Wedding.”

  “Erm.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “Wasn’t that like two centuries ago?”

  “Whatever! You’re raining on my parade, okay? Stop killing my vibe.” Now she was power-walking on the spot, huffing and puffing. “Must keep heart rate elevated.”

  “You really should stop doing that, Lucy.”

  “Huh?” She eyed me quickly. “Stop doing what?”

  “Power-walking,” I said. “You look like you desperately need to rush home and take a massive crap.” I smiled endearingly. “Just saying.”

  She merely rolled her eyes at me and went on stepping on the spot.

  While I stood there watching the Lucy Show, Molls and Kenz appeared by my side. “Don’t you girls wanna get in there?” I jerked my chin at the mob of women gathering on the dance floor. “Doesn’t that look like fun?”

  “No. And no, thanks,” McKenzie said flatly. “I’d rather set myself on fire.”

  “Same,” Molly agreed. “I’d rather fling myself into oncoming traffic.”

  “Be more creative,” I said. “Next time, push the envelope a little and say something real gross and real out there.”

  “Like?” Molly prompted.

  “Like you’d rather lick armpit hair full of chalky deodorant and sweat.”

  “Ewwwww.” My sisters groaned and gagged.

  Meanwhile, Lucy was kicking her knees up high and howling, “Higher. HIGHER.”

  “Wow.” McKenzie observed. “That’s some serious cardio. And she’s really getting into it now.”

  “She is, isn’t she?” Molly watched in fascination. After a beat, she asked, “Why is Lucy moving and yelling like a Zumba class instructor?”

  My lips quirked and I suppressed a grin. “Don’t ask.”

  Moments later, Molls and Kenz were arguing over some stupid, trivial shit... well, because they were sisters.

  “Kenz!” Molly’s tone was rapier-sharp and I tensed at the sudden edge in her voice. “You broke my PopSocket and now I have to hold my phone in my hand.”

  “Life’s rough,” McKenzie said mildly.

  “Ugh. I’m telling Mom.”

  “Go ahead. And I’m telling Mom that you tried vaping.”

  Molly flinched at her words. “Who told you that?”

  “A lot of people at school.”

  “Sis,” she said acidly. “I don’t know who you got your tea from, but this is rampant misinformation. I’ve never vaped in my life. Never.”

  “Lies. I have the receipts to prove it.”

  Balls. I groaned inwardly. This is exhausting.

  Their bickering quickly escalated, things got more heated, and before long they were attacking each other’s flower crowns with fervor.

  “Girls, girls, girls,” Lucy hissed while doing a jump-squat. “Remember what I told you? Elevate and empower. True queens
fix each other’s crowns.”

  “We know, we know,” came their mealy-mouthed responses. Surprisingly enough, they swiftly made up and buried the feud.

  Crisis averted.

  At that moment, the DJ switched the music to a slower tempo and Bianca glided across the floor and stood erect with a bouquet of gardenias in her hands.

  “Awww,” my sisters gushed, glowing with pride. “Doesn’t Mom look beautiful?”

  I smiled at my ex-stepmom. Bianca looked every inch the radiant bride.

  Briefly, her eyes alighted on Lucy and then she winked at me as if to say, She’s a keeper, that one.

  “Did you see that?” Molly cried. “Mom’s clearly taken with Lucy.”

  Who isn’t? I wondered.

  “She sure is.” McKenzie smiled. “Those two get on like a house on fire!”

  “They do?”

  “Yeah,” she said. “They were chatting up a storm earlier like long-lost friends.”

  “Chatting about what?”

  “About you, about their horses.”

  Right. Of course they were. Bianca was an equestrian, too. How could I forget?

  “’Twas the meeting of two horse chicks,” McKenzie recounted theatrically. “One from the city, the other from the country.”

  “Hey, remember how you said you’d never date a horse girl,” Molly said teasingly.

  I smiled. “We don’t talk about that.”

  “And yet here you are.”

  And yet here I am. I looked on at Lucy, so fearless and reckless. So carefree.

  A wild horse racing through the dunes that can never be tamed.

  Not to mention, certifiably insane and completely unhinged when she was smashed.

  I let out a ragged breath. Why am I such a sucker for the batshit crazy ones?

  And right now, she was putting the ‘hot’ in psychotic.

  At some point or other, I could no longer hear the music. It was as if the DJ had hit PAUSE on the playlist.

  All I could hear, all I could see was Lucy. Only her.

  She was like this force I hadn’t thought I needed in my life... until now.

  Could it be that I’m falling for her?

  Whatever the case, I’ve reached that point where my brain has gone from ‘We probably shouldn’t do this’ to ‘Fuck it all and let’s see what happens.’